Swallowed in the sea
by what-wouldblairdo
Summary: Kurt doesn't love Blaine. He probably never has. So what if Sam has come back? He doesn't care. He doesn't want to feel. Not anymore. Eventual Kum. Beware the Blaine bashing.
1. Pretending

**This is my first fic, so um, please be nice. Also, beware the angst. And the Blaine bashing.**

**Spoiler alert: Until season 3 really**

**Disclaimer: If I owned Glee, every single character on the show would be gay. Except for Blaine, who would just get slushied every now and them. And Will, 'cause he's just a pedo.**

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><p>Pretending was easy. Kurt had been doing it for months, ever since Blaine had come back from his summer tour at Six Flags. That's why it was also easy to pretend that the way he had tied his scarf so tightly around his neck didn't make him look constipated, or that the way he was now frowning at Kurt didn't make his eyebrows look like two huge triangles covering half his face. Everything had been going smoothly. Perfectly Kurt liked to think. According to plan. Until now.<p>

It had been easy to ignore the fact that the face he was kissing wasn't the one he wanted to be kissing. It had been easy ignoring Sam's texts, emails, Facebook messages and calls. It had been easy setting fire to the letter he had written to him before leaving Lima. It was easy to ignore his urges to slap Blaine across the cheek every time he got a solo in Glee club and rubbed it in Kurt's face, asking if he would help him practice. It was even easy to ignore the condescending way he would talk to him. What was less easy to ignore, were the nails digging into his skin right now.

Kurt looked up from the cappuccino he had been stirring and forced himself to look Blaine in the eye. After all, he was the one who had called him.

"What is it Kurt?" Blaine asked, now rubbing softly at the spot he had been clawing seconds earlier.

Kurt took a deep breath. Now that Sam was coming back, he had to come clean. It was the only way he'd be able to stay in his relationship with Blaine. Because he knew that if he didn't confess now, it would all come to hit him in the face later. He had to get rid of the huge Sword of Damocles hanging above his head, of the guilt he felt every time Blaine would say anything remotely nice to him. Now was the time.

Just then his iPhone chimed. He was about to indulge in this distraction until he realized who had sent it.

That just about gave him the confidence he needed to get on with it.

"Blaine" he began breathlessly "You know this summer, while you were at Six Flags?"

"Yes?" Blaine nodded at this, seemingly quite bored already.

"Well... I was very lonely that summer... and Sam and I had grown quite... Well, close, I suppose you could say... And-"

Blaine put his hand out, motioning him to stop. Somehow, even then, it irritated Kurt immensely. He just stared at him, slightly dropping his mouth open, before closing it again.

Blaine stared back, looking both smug and bewildered.

"You think I didn't know? What do you think I am Kurt, stupid?" He looks up at the ceiling and it's like God is looking down at him pityingly. The whole image of Blaine seems pathetically dramatic to Kurt, and all he wants is for him to dump him. To get rid of him. To tell him to go to hell. But he doesn't. Instead, Blaine looks back at him softly and pats his hand.

"But I forgive you Kurt. I forgive you because I love you."

Kurt doesn't know if he has to laugh or cry. So he does neither.

"I love you too" he answers under his breath.


	2. Disappointed

**I'm very sorry about: the shortness of the chapter, the Blaine bashing and the angst. All the above I cannot help.**

**Disclaimer: If I owned Glee, every single character on the show would be gay. Except for Blaine, who would just get slushied every now and then. And Will, 'cause he's just a pedo.**

**This has not been beta-ed so I'm sorry if there any spelling mistakes.**

**So um, enjoy. Or not, y'know.**

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><p>He must be drunk. Surely, he is drunk. Kurt knows this, because why else would he be lying down on Santana's bed, Blaine straddling him, kissing and licking his neck ? When he keeps his eyes open, he thinks he can spot bits of dandruff in Blaine's over-gelled hair. But when he closes his eyes, he can imagine thick and luscious lips against his cervix, shaggy yet smooth blond hair running through his fingers, calloused hands fumbling to take his belt off... But then he remembers. It isn't Sam. It's Blaine. And he is not ready for this. Not with him. Not when he still has so many messed up feelings for Sam. And he hates himself. He really does. He wishes he could like Blaine, like he used to. He wishes he were hard right now from Blaine. But he wasn't. The only thing that got him going was a memory, a glimpse of a past touch... That's why he shifts back uncomfortably and rubs the back of his neck, as if to rub away what felt like clandestine lingering kisses to him.<p>

Blaine pulls back from him, sighing exasperatedly and frowning at him.

"What is it?" he asks impatiently.

Kurt crosses his arms over his chest protectively. He really didn't want to fight tonight.

"I just don't think I'm ready for this..."

"Not ready for what? For sex?"

Where Kurt's voice had weakened at the end of his sentence, Blaine's had risen, full of accusation. Kurt nodded, his eyes hallow and sad.

"Why not? Don't you love me? Don't you think I deserve this? You cheated on me!" He spat at him, voice so loud Kurt could barely hear the booming music from the other side of the door. He rose from the bed furiously and shakily closed the buttons of his shirt before looking straight at Blaine and the ostentatious bulge in his pants.

"So what Blaine? You think you can guilt me into having sex with you? Are you really that desperate?"

Blaine shot up from the four-poster and grabbed Kurt by the shirt, pinning him to the wall.

"It's not exactly like you're a fucking virgin Kurt." he groaned menacingly into his ear, his crotch rubbing against Kurt's thigh.

"Fuck you Blaine." mouthed the countertenor before shoving his excuse for a boyfriend and walking past him, and out through the door.

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><p>The music seemed to be roaring to Kurt, and he wasn't sure if it was because the volume was so loud or because his head felt like it was being pummeled. He climbed down the stairs into the living room, where Finn and Rachel were making out on the couch, and Artie seemed to have passed out in his wheelchair next to them, the word "loser" smeared across his forehead in Sharpie. The brunette went to the bar and filled a himself a glass of Diet Coke, pondering whether or not he should add gin to it. Deciding he may be drunk, but not enough to face Blaine if he was to see him again tonight, and certainly not enough if he were to come across Sam this evening, he poured a large amount of the translucent liquid into his glass and went through the glass windows panes leading to Santana's large garden. Sitting on one of the tattered swings was Santana herself, wearing a pair of devil horns, her eye-liner smudged from what Kurt could only guess was crying and her hair slightly greasy. He sat beside her and gently rocked himself to and fro.<p>

"Want some?" asked the Latina, offering him a metal flask that could only contain alcohol judging by the smell of it. Kurt shook his head and took a sip from his cup.

"I'm all good thanks."

They both stayed quiet for a while, before Kurt spoke up:

"Where are all the others?"

Santana sighed. "Wheels, Jew and Frankenteen are inside, and the others have gone to a 7-Eleven to see if they can buy more booze."

She took a swig from her flask.

"I think Brittany left wearing only a skirt and a bra." she said, smiling to herself.

Both were startled by the sound of a car starting to their right. It was Blaine. Apparently he had decided to call it night. Kurt smirked, and was thankful Santana didn't ask him anything. Then again, she didn't exactly care, did she? He turned to her. Sometimes he had fantasized about both of them being friends. They had more in common than they liked to think. But they were also both too proud.

"Has Sam gone with them too?" Kurt asked before even realizing, and instantly wished he hadn't.

"No, he left a while ago. Just about the same time you and Hobbit disappeared"

Kurt cursed himself for being disappointed.


	3. Perfect

**Sorry it took so much time getting around to this (don't even know why I'm apologising because who cares?).**

**I'm also sorry we don't get to see Sam much yet. As you've probably guessed, Kurt is trying to block him out of life as much as possible!**

**Disclaimer: If I owned Glee, every single character on the show would be gay. Except for Blaine, who would just get slushied every now and them. And Will, 'cause he's just a pedo.**

Kurt felt stupid, standing outside Blaine's house with a banoffee muffin and a grande, non-fat, no water, 180 degrees, chai tea latte. It's not like he needed to apologise. He wasn't the one who had forced sex onto his boyfriend and then got mad for not getting laid. He wasn't the one who had stormed off from Santana's party and left Kurt without a ride (and had had to go home with Finn and Rachel, arguing). So here he was, with Blaine's favourite muffin and morning beverage, and he had even re-loaded onto his iPod all the Tony songs from West Side Story he had taken off after not getting the solo, so Blaine could practice in the car. Because Kurt was a good boyfriend. Well, maybe not a good boyfriend, since a good boyfriend was probably a boyfriend that didn't cheat...

But Kurt felt even more stupid when Blaine's mum told him that said boy had already left for school.

He walked back to his Navigator, dumped the hot drink and muffin in the trash, ignored the tears stinging his eyes and the rumbling of his unfed stomach.

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><p>As he got up from his desk and lifted his messenger bag onto his shoulder, he felt dizzy and smiled. The dizziness was soothing and left him light-headed. Yes, his stomach was in pain, but feeling like this, worry-free and feather-light was priceless. He was about to leave the classroom when Mr. Dinklage, his AP French teacher called him over to his desk.<p>

"Kurt?" he asked as he fumbled with a stack of papers before stuffing them into his briefcase.

"Yes sir?"

Mr. Dinklage sat down and took a sip from his mug.

"I have a student who just joined my class and is having a bit of trouble with the basics... Grammar and such. He can't afford a private tutor so I was wondering if maybe you could spend a few hours giving him a hand?" He looked at Kurt hopefully, and the brunet just stared right back at him, oblivious. "Would you, er, mind then?"

"Oh, um, you see the thing is... I'm actually quite busy at the moment... I've got Glee club, I just joined the Cheerios, and it's senior year..." he began.

"Of course tuition always looks good on a college application..."

Kurt sighed audibly and rolled his eyes.

"Fine I'll do it."

Dinklage gave him a broad smile and added, just as Kurt was leaving: "Il t'en sera très reconnaissant!"

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><p>"Where were you at lunch?" Mercedes snapped her fingers in front of Kurt's face.<p>

"At the library. I had to study for my history test." Kurt answered immediately, response being well-rehearsed.

"Oh right. Are you sure you're ok? You look pale white boy. Even paler than usual."

Kurt bit his nails nervously. He was getting sick of everyone asking him all these questions. Kurt was trying his best, his best to be perfect at everything. He worked hard to get straight As, he always made sure his father ate healthily, he was always busy with Glee and now with the Cheerios, he tried hard to make his and Blaine's relationship work, or at least tried to glue the pieces together...

He looked into his best friend's eyes and smiled.

"I've never been better 'Cedes."

It looked his she was about to say something but she was interrupted by Mr. Schue clapping his hands together.

"So guys! I've had an idea for this week's assignment!"

Santana, sitting on Kurt's right, sighed obnoxiously and filed her nails furiously.

"If I may, Mr. Schue?" Rachel raised her arm.

"Not now Rachel!" he answered back, trying his best to sound both cool and authoritarian.

During all this Kurt was trying his best not to turn around and look at Sam, so he focused on the Spanish teacher's pathetic attempt at trying to enthuse the club.

"So as I was saying, I've decided that this week's assignment, would be to sing a song- the one of choice- which you would have liked someone, at a moment or another of your life, to have sung to you. So I want a song that delivers a message. Something filled with emotion-"

Kurt ignored the rest of Mr. Schue's tirade to fish his iPhone out of his pocket, since it had just vibrated.

_From: Blaine A._

_Come round to my house this evening?_

Kurt sent out a quick "yes" and barely had to wait a few seconds for an answer to come.

_From: Blaine A._

_Cool. My parents will be out..._

Kurt sighed. He didn't care if he'd have to have sex with Blaine for him to forgive him any more. His relationship had to be perfect again, just like it used to be.

He raised his head and looked over at Blaine grinning at him from across the room.

**Hey guys, guess who the guy who needs tutoring is (teehee)?**

**I've put off writing about Sam so far because I'm afraid I'll ruin it, but I can promise you some Kum in the next chapter!**


	4. Born To Die

**Sorry for not writing this sooner, I was actually waiting for inspiration! Hope you enjoy this.**

**The lyrics used in this chapter are from "Born To Die" by Lana Del Rey which is pretty much my iPod's new whore-song.**

**Disclaimer: If I owned Glee, every single character on the show would be gay. Except for Blaine, who would just get slushied every now and them. And Will, 'cause he's just a pedo.**

**Sorry if there are any spelling mistakes, I'm quite tired and find it very hard (i.e embarrassing) to read myself.**

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><p>When igniting a lighter, it takes less than a second for the gas to reach the spark and burst into a flame. It took about the same amount of time for Kurt to recognize Sam, sitting by himself at a table by the window in the school library. Only a flame could not begin to describe the fire that erupted within Kurt at this sight. The heat could not compare to the one that animated his lungs, his throat, his stomach and left his fingertips burning. Did his head feel so dizzy because he hadn't eaten anything consistent since Wednesday or was it because of what he was seeing? The world stopped. So did Kurt. He fingered the strap of his Mulberry shoulder bag. Should he turn around? Flee? Or was he going to listen to that part of him, the bigger part, the one that longed for pain, hurting, completeness: any excuse to interact with him.<p>

Sam ran his hand through his hair and looked around. He was expecting his tutor. Did he know it would be Kurt? Was this a cruel game of fate?

_Feet don't fail me now_  
><em>Take me to the finish line<em>  
><em>All my heart, it breaks every step that I take<em>

Kurt answered his strongest desire, a concoction of lust and masochism, and walked forward.

_But I'm hoping that the gates,_  
><em>They'll tell me that you're mine<em>

"You cut your hair." he said to the blond. School had started months ago yet this was the first time Kurt had addressed him. Sam said nothing. He opened his French textbook. Kurt could tell it was second-hand by the circled answers that were scribbled across the exercise on page 134. He sat down.

Avoiding eye-contact as much as possible, Kurt told Sam all about the passé simple and even started on the subjonctif. The whole time Kurt felt hot and cold, he shivered and sweat.

As both were gathering their things to leave an hour later (by then the library was emptying), Sam looked at Kurt and opened his mouth slightly. He furrowed his eyebrows and looked for the rights words, like a chess player ponders before setting a last pawn on the board to win the game.

"Que faisez vous ce soir?"

The French was all wrong. Kurt couldn't bring himself to care.

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><p>They had drunk in Kurt's car. Two bottles of Tariquet (he liked to think the fact that the wine was French gave the situation more legitimacy). They were mostly quiet, handing the bottles back and forth until they were empty. Kurt spent the whole time staring at Sam's lips. Sometimes they would move but he couldn't make out any sound.<p>

By the time they got into Scandal he was drunk. He could tell because the way the man across the dance floor was staring at him wasn't bothering.

Sam licked his lips before pressing a bottle of beer to them. He didn't know why they'd decided to go there. They wanted a loud place. A crowded place. A place where they could do, and not think.

They had come to the right place.

Kurt wondered how the evening would end. He hated himself for hoping it would be in Sam's sheets. Hopefully not the motel's, those were scratchy.

Sam emptied his bottle and stood up from the stool he was perched on and offered Kurt his hand.

"Come dance with me." he yelled into his ear.

Wieniawski couldn't have sounded half as sweet.

The club was playing some new Black Eyed Peas song Kurt hated but he didn't mind. Sam's body was so close to him the music couldn't quite seem to reach his ear, getting lost in the maze of his feelings.

_Keep making me laugh,_  
><em>Let's go get high<em>  
><em>Road's long, we carry on<em>  
><em>Try to have fun in the meantime<em>

How many calories were there in a mojito? Was Sam hard or were the flashing lights playing tricks on him? His breath left Kurt's ear flushed. He tilted his head back and waved his finger in the air to the beat. At the time it hadn't looked ridiculous.

Kurt felt stupid. He felt hopeful. He didn't think of Blaine.

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><p>Sam was too drunk. He was peppering Kurt's neck with soft kisses. The sheets weren't scratchy. They were Egyptian cotton. Thank God Kurt had remembered his keys. Sam bit his neck softly and moaned. Kurt dig his nails harder into his back.<p>

When he woke up Sam was gone. The spot where he'd been lying was already cold. So was Kurt.

_Choose your last words,_  
><em>This is the last time<em>  
><em>Cause you and I<em>  
><em>We were born to die<em>

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><p><em><em>**I have so many feelings about Kum, and in my head their relationship is so complicated, I have absolutely no idea where this story is going. Bear with and we might find out :) **

**Also, what are your thoughts on Samcedes?**

**It made me cried when watching the last episode. Just saying.**


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